Sunday, September 15, 2013

No explanation

A white murti of Lord Shiva adorned with and surrounded by flowers
My Lord's consciousness
and intelligence emanates
as endless universes
Only because I have this blog do I feel the need to explain.

Isn't it the pinnacle of self-indulgence to withdraw from the world, to live a solitary life INSIDE. And how can you say this is all God? If this is all God, doesn't that mean there is no evil?

Lord Krishna explains: Do your duty, your dharma. It's true that all of this is the great Lord, His play, the Lord at play. Take your hands off of His creation, trying to push and pull it, and simply follow your duty. This is the way to freedom. Profound, ultimate freedom.

This is all consciousness. And it is an intelligence so supreme it unfolds and emerges through everything around me... so that the earth knows how to fly and spin, the rain knows how and where to fall, the wind knows where to go... and every part of this great play is made by You, by your divine intelligence.

Only because I know that some of the people who read my blog are very active, good people, who dare to do good, to be something great... do I feel the need to explain.

I say to them: What a wonderful thing. Follow the bliss. Choose where you are, the only real choice. You get to merge back eventually. But the play would be over if everyone suddenly decided they were done and wanted out.

Waving the lights, an aarti on ghat on banks of Ganges River, Kashi/Veranasi

Sometimes a kriya gently, insistently bends my head forward and I have a minute of "head falling forward" meditation (the best). But my mediation now is eyes open, everywhere I go, everything I do. I want to feel bliss, so I turn my senses inward, watch as all of this... IS.

I know I am yours, that I am You when I am so still inside. My senses withdrawn, all is profoundly silent and still, even as the motion and noise of the play continues around me.

A temple full of offerings for Mahashivaratri is crowded with worshipers

When I was new to sadhana, I didn't like the thought of merging with God. I thought it must be an Indian thing, one I would never really comprehend. Of course, my ego was very unhappy at the thought of dissolving into God.

Now merging with God is the very best, the sweetest, the most wonderful idea ever, and the deepest desire of my heart. I have become bigger and more than my ego, which thinks I am THIS.

I love Shiva, the auspicious one. What could be better than to merge back into Him, my Beloved? The wonder and delight of this ultimate journey is indescribable pleasure to my Lord and to me.

All because of grace. Guruji...

Tuesday, September 10, 2013

More to this

I have turned away from the world of the senses. It still swirls around me, as messy and perfectly cohesive as ever it was... It just doesn't mean near as much to me.

Some would say it is too self-centered, too self-indulgent to focus only on this immediate world of eloquent grace, nestled in and waking from naptime in the divine kindergarten of love.

This I will say, in the end the tale is a love story. That special place where lovers pool their sighs, gaze through abstract movement where the air is warm and close....

So, let me go away, go home at last. If you question, it means you have more to do. No worries.

"It only ends once, the rest is just progress." 
~Jacob on LOST

I will still write here; this is my seva (service). My posts are about my love for my Beloved, as my life is.

PS There is more to this than the world of the senses. If you long for a journey elsewhere, one way is to go down inside of yourself (meditation) and discover the world that is there.

Monday, September 9, 2013


You were walking in the rain, just outside my open door, laughing.

I recognized Your voice.



Strange... My life is flashing before my eyes.

I am the river and I am the boat. I am the illusion of time (now, not now), and space (here, not here).

I keep floating past, floating through the many unrelated moments that arise from my memory, perfect yet impossibly small, made of shakti so still, almost stagnant, concentrated. I am suffocating in the feelings and thoughts that were "then."

The moments on the farm... the constant wind in the tall poplar trees, somehow a much larger dance, one that ever passes me as the songs of unseen birds and the lowing of distant cattle. The cut hay stubble of this fragrant field crunches with each step. Then the swirling flutter, the twinkle of light in the generous leaves of epic cottonwood trees. The sweet water falling as it swirls along the little creek. The "coo coo" of the morning doves float on the dense air, moist with twilight.

I float for a moment, the memory insistent fills me, and in that very distant, smallest spot of illusion, I remember the vision of solid land, and a moment that was. The pain is brief. My freedom is sweet. Each time I flow through, it is all swept away. I am released.

The memories are so far from truth that their perfect measure is the reach of karma. The karma is how far afield... how far to find my way back... I burn the karmas of these wagers, these investments in illusion, so small, (that I must emerge from them light and fresh), that the once is scraped off, leaving only NOW.

The final adventure... I keep my destination within sight. I do not control how or when I will arrive back where I started, only that it is certain.

There will be no side journeys. I am headed straight for home. I await myself there.

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